


"I Did It, Eiji."

by elena_stidham



Series: Kintsugi [1]
Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Porn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Sex, Consensual Sex, First Time Blow Jobs, Inspired by Fanart, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Porn with Feelings, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape Recovery, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 04:23:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17655992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elena_stidham/pseuds/elena_stidham
Summary: "I want to replace everything with you."A fic based on various artwork by @kuchacchi on Twitter where Ash and Eiji try to have sex. It always ends in feelings of disgust, or guilt, there's sometimes flashbacks, but no matter what happens it always ends awfully. Then somewhere, on this bumpy road to recovery, Ash does not have these horrible flashbacks anymore.





	"I Did It, Eiji."

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS FOR: This is hella riddled with PTSD of sexual abuse and rape and such, as well as containing actual sex (albeit consensual), please be warned
> 
> SONGS USED TO GET IN THE MOOD: “White Silence” by TK from Ling Tosite Singure
> 
> This was based on an incredible series of artworks by @kuchacchi on Twitter. 
> 
> https://twitter.com/kuchacchi/status/1091778556269490178?s=20
> 
> https://twitter.com/kuchacchi/status/1091094333309124608?s=20
> 
> I also just heard the song “White Silence” for the first time today, and I really suddenly wanted to write this. This can tie in with “This Quiet Life” if you want, but it can also be stand-alone, or it can literally just be on the canon timeline before Ash died. Idk. This is also partially based with my own struggles, but I won’t go into that. I’ll just leave it at Ash Lynx deserves better and he deserves to feel things only with love. I’ve got a tumblr, elenastidham, and links in my tumblr bio that you can visit if you want. Anyways. Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy!!  
> -Elena

Ash was used to kisses from Eiji by now. They had discussed this.

Eiji still doesn’t kiss him first, unless he asks, but he still rather chooses to wait until Ash leans in with the first move. He still chooses to keep himself slow, careful, and if Ash wanted to pull away at literally any time, he could.

He doesn’t.

He doesn’t push it further unless Ash asks him to. He doesn’t make any effort to make it seem like he wants more, he doesn’t drop any hints that he wants to go longer, knowing that Ash would operate off guilt alone. He knows Ash would try to push himself because Eiji would want to, he knows he’d fight any demon if it meant Eiji’s happiness, and he knows, because of that, not to want _anything._

So the first time Ash tells him he wants to try having sex, Eiji downright refuses, almost certain he’s saying it because for some reason, Eiji had made the thought somehow clear. Ash gives him an odd look at the blunt answer, but he doesn’t push it.

The second time, the refusal isn’t as blatant, but it’s definitely questioned.

“Do you not want to?” Ash asks him.

“Before I answer that question, let me ask you this,” Eiji turns to face him. “Is there any particular reason why _you_ want to?”

Ash’s voice is suddenly quiet. “Well…yeah.”

Eiji stops what he’s doing, then turns, now giving him his full, undivided attention. He doesn’t get the chance to ask about it before Ash swallows and continues.

“I want to replace everything with you.”

Things make sense from there. Many times Eiji finds himself surprised by hungry kisses that seem desperate to block something away, and it’s not until Ash pulls away with a moment of relief caught between his eyes when he figures out he’s just replaced a kiss from someone else. Sex, it seems, is no different.

“Can we try that?” He asks, voice softer now.

This time, Eiji nods. “Maybe, not entirely. We’ll only go as far as you’re comfortable with. Don’t push yourself. Don’t think about me for two seconds—”

“—I want you to feel good, too, damn it—”

“—I don’t need to have sex to feel good,” Eiji tells him simply. “I’m just happy to be with you. And I’m happy you trust me. We’ll only go as far as you want to be. Okay?”

Ash can only nod to that. Eiji does not step forward, he only waits for Ash, and Ash does not wait. Their kisses are still soft and hungry, still slightly desperate to push something away. There is still this intense need to replace and take it all away.

Eiji only moves when Ash moves, and he does not dare to undress until Ash’s fingers are fumbling with the buttons.

They’re both completely naked when Ash asks to stop. They haven’t done anything other than chase each other’s lips and taste, but it’s then when Ash is suddenly overwhelmed with the sudden discomfort of pure dread. He sits, resting against the headboard, avoiding eye contact entirely, but he notices that Eiji’s doing the same.

“Look at me,” he says finally.

Eiji does.

“Don’t do anything,” he swallows. “Just look.”

He doesn’t mention that he isn’t used to eyes on him that are filled with love instead of lust. He doesn’t remember anybody looking at him with tenderness and seeing him as anything other than a sex toy. He doesn’t know of eyes on him that don’t belong to Eiji, and it’s a feeling he’s trying to learn.

The silence weighs heavy, before Eiji makes it full of light again.

“You were right,” he chuckles lightly. “It’s blonde down there, too.”

Ash laughs, legitimately laughs, and he has to cover his hand with his mouth to keep it from being obnoxious. Eiji thinks it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. They stop on that note for the night, but from that point onward Ash can only giggle when he sees any kind of nudity.

They decide to try again a few days later, but in a different form. Stripping naked and prepping is something Ash really isn’t feeling the time for, but he does remember how disgusted he would feel at the thought of another man in his mouth. He wonders how Eiji would taste.

A few movements in – as disgusting as the rest.

Eiji has to pull him off, noticing the look in his eyes that he gets when he’s doing something he doesn’t want to do. Ash tries to protest it, but Eiji refuses. “You’re only doing it for me at this point,” he says. “Look at me in my eyes and try to tell me otherwise.”

He can’t.

Ash is feverishly trying to scrub the taste out of his mouth for the next three hours. Eiji does a particularly fine job of hiding the guilt he carries because of it, but they both know better. Neither of them are stupid.

When Ash steps out of the bathroom for what feels like the fifth time in twenty minutes, Eiji’s waiting for him out there.

“Can we talk about what happened?” He asks.

“I guess.”

Eiji gives him a brief look, and in a split second between the two the same gaze of sadness is shared. “When we’re trying these things, please, _please,_ Ash, don’t worry about me.”

Ash shrugs after some time.

“I’m serious,” Eiji tells him. “I don’t want you to carry that kind of weight. I’ll be fine.”

Ash looks up at him, and this time, Eiji finally moves first – a very simple motion, just his hands gently resting on his shoulders. Grounding. “We will take as long as we need. Even if it never happens, it never happens. Okay?”

Ash just rests his forehead on Eiji’s shoulder, an invitation to be wrapped up in his arms. So he’s wrapped.

“Okay.”

They don’t try again until about a week later, when Eiji is finding himself pinned against the kitchen wall and being smothered in kisses of all kinds. He wants to ask, but he feels hands underneath his shirt and on his chest, and that’s when he gets the idea.

“You sure?” Is all he manages to mumble between each breath.

Ash nods, eyes shut tight.

When it comes to sex, there’s a consistent pattern, a routine of sorts, that Ash has come to expect every time his back is pressed against the bed. When it comes to sex, there’s different imagery, there’s new emotions and new feelings, that Eiji has learned varies from person to person. These pasts tend to clash when they meet.

Ash is trying to find pleasure in the little things Eiji does to him. Kisses on the neck were stolen by grown men. Fingers grazing his chest were scorched into his skin before he turned thirteen. What he has never felt before – _ever_ – was a pair of lips wrapping themselves around him.

He has to bolt upright, more out of reaction, to see what Eiji’s doing to him. He has to hold in a noise with his hand – each moan he had ever let out in his life was purely fake and never with any genuine intention. This had changed right now.

“You don’t,” Ash swallows hard, his voice shaking with his breathing. “You don’t have to do that.”

Eiji raises his eyebrow at him, confused, before he carefully pulls himself off with a faint _pop._ “Do you not like it?”

“ _No,_ ” Ash corrects. “I do. I just—I’m not used to this.”

Eiji picks up what he means almost immediately. He has to swallow down the anger he feels, knowing how some people – no, some _monsters_ – in this world are just so sick and twisted and so completely _disgusting—_

“—Do you want me to stop?” Eiji asks, sincerely.

Ash has to think on that.

He shakes his head. Eiji almost doesn’t go back down, until Ash reaches for his head and gently pushes him by his hair. They share a glance, a smile, then he continues. Ash is _definitely_ not used to this. He’s used to being used and being used is all that he’s used to. Being _loved,_ however. _Being loved._

It’s his first climax that isn’t forced out of him. It feels _good._ It feels _real._

“Did you like that?” Eiji smiles at him sweetly, wiping at his mouth.

Ash, completely red in the face, only nods again. It’s the innocence in his reaction that makes Eiji giggle lightly, then lean forward to plant a kiss on the cheek. “Do you want to keep going?”

He shakes his head. “I want to end on a positive note tonight.”

Eiji nods. “That’s okay.”

His voice triggers something, then he has to look back in a brief moment of forgotten panic. “Wait a minute, I forgot about you—”

“—I’ve got a hand, if you’re really that adamant about it,” Eiji uses an arm to keep him pushed back. “Think of yourself, just for once. Don’t think of me here.”

It’s the hardest thing Ash has ever been commanded to do.

The next morning Ash is trying again, this time determined to like the taste, determined to like the feeling, or at least grow tolerant of it. And for a moment, he is. He just thinks of he and Eiji the previous night and there’s suddenly no feeling to be intolerant of. That is, until Eiji peaks.

The taste of semen is salty, the texture overall is sticky, and it only leaves a sour bitterness of memories flooding back into his bloodstream. This, he remembers, is _vile._

Ash finds himself vomiting in the bathroom before Eiji’s even done, eyes burning red with tears as he’s violently hacking up the remnants of Eiji and the remnants of other men permanently sticking to the roof of his mouth and the back of his throat. It burns. Everything _burns._

He’s in the middle of his third round of heaving when he feels an hand on his back. The swat is instinctual, until he remembers who’s hand it is.

“I’m sorry,” Ash cries, strings of saliva and blood falling from his tongue. The vomit and semen are long gone by this point; Ash’s mouth and throat only cursed with the taste and the _burn._

Eiji stares for a moment, in complete shock, before he has to quickly blink himself out of it and shake his head. “No, no,” he says softly, keeping his movements and words gentle and carefully picked. He brings his thumbs up to the damp blonde eyelashes to chase the tears away from the boy’s broken eyes. “This is not your fault. _I’m_ sorry. Let me get you cleaned up.”

Ash is too shaken to fight back on this, with his mouth delicately wiped down with a washcloth and given a cup of black coffee to dull the taste. With the mug in hand, he still finds his ear somehow pressed to Eiji’s chest. They share their cries for that night, together in a tight embrace.

It’s a while before Ash asks to try again, but this time, he’s adamant that they’re going to make it all the way.

He’s wrong.

“I’m _sorry,”_ he weeps, choking back in on himself, curling into a ball and facing the side. “I’m so _sorry._ ”

Eiji can’t help but sob with him.

“It’s not your fault, Ash,” Eiji makes sure to tell him, immediate to pull out give him space. He covers his mouth and wipes his eyes. He has no right to be crying, he did this to him. “ _I’m_ sorry.”

Ash just shakes his head again, in-between his ragged breathing he’s still carrying a burden far too heavy for anybody to bear. “You damn idiot,” he sobs. “It’s my fault. I couldn’t do it. I’m sorry.”

Eiji learns there’s no use in fighting when Ash is only hurting. He slowly crawls over and pulls him up into his arms, then lets him cry. They stay in the embrace for as long as they need.

“I love you,” Eiji tells him. “I love you. I love you so much.”

The words can only cut Ash in half.

“I love you too.”

This happens many, many times.

Each time when Ash initiates, Eiji is extra careful, noticing that he always makes it a little further than before, but they hardly have ever made it all the way – even when all the way came, the climax would always shatter Ash back down to pieces and he’s sobbing again in shame.

Some nights, Eiji has to refuse him, knowing that it’s too soon, or it’s too risky because of the day they had, or whatever factors Eiji had noticed throughout the day that would definitely affect him.

Except, today? Not today. Ash has a very good feeling about today.

The kisses are entirely replaced. Every time their lips would meet now, Ash would only think of Eiji – no longer does he think of a time where they come from a man whose lips he did not want to meet. These kisses now no longer hurt.

Being naked isn’t a foreign feeling, but now he can only think of some silly comment Eiji had made some odd months ago – and he suddenly isn’t afraid of being exposed out to the man he loves anymore. He remembers that Eiji is exposed, too, but it’s a body he wants to see. It’s not a body in which he looks away.

He’s used to touches, he’s used to the prepping. By this point, it’s starting to feel good. The moans that slip past his throat now aren’t pushed out in prostitution. They’re there in reaction, they’re there in a way that’s so unnaturally…natural.

Eiji still holds him tenderly. Eiji still carries him in his arms as if he’s made out of shattered glass with a voice of porcelain. He’s still fragile, but Ash doesn’t feel this way.

Ash feels himself building from the deepest depths of his core, and he’s not scared of it anymore. He’s not afraid of this feeling, and for once, in his entire life, he’s having sex. It’s not rape. It’s not halfway. It’s just sex. He’s not stopped by disgust, by flashbacks, not by _anything—_

He comes. It’s loud, it’s intense, it’s pure. He’s arching his back and curling his toes and holding onto the sheets. When he falls from his peak, he does not panic. He pants, staring up at Eiji and gesturing for him to continue until he meets him there. He does.

There’s a moment, where the two of them just breathe together in a collective silence made impossible only by the sounds from their lungs. Their eyes do not break from each other’s contact, and it’s within the end of stunned quiet when tears begin to prick at Ash’s eyes.

“Hey, hey,” Eiji says, his voice smooth, his hand immediately reaching for the tears before it’s swatted away. His voice halts, and he gives Ash a look of confusion, before finally, the tears carry an explanation.

_“I did it, Eiji.”_

The sentence doesn’t strike right, at first, and he almost asks him to repeat it before it finally sinks in. He made it. He had come so far. He did it.

This time, when Eiji cries with him, it’s only because they’re both smiling so wide. The air does not hold any heaviness, now, the air is only light. In the middle of a life of horror and violence, Ash Lynx was finally given a heartbeat of time where he would be able to peek through windows. In this flicker, in this very faint sprinkle of summertime, he did not cry as Ash Lynx anymore.

He is just Aslan.


End file.
